Challenge or Confess
by trip24601
Summary: The Bennet sisters play a game of truth or dare. Was a one shot, now going to be a short story.
1. Scene1

It all started because of the rain. The skies had been gray and cloudy for days before the storm, but nobody thought much of it. Then the rains came. And came. And came. For three days Elizabeth had been trapped inside with her sisters. If it had just been Jane, this would never had happened. Being trapped with her favorite sister would have been a nice respite from the foibles of her sisters. Unfortunately, her sisters were stuck with her.

Lydia's voice broke through the drumming emanating from the ceiling, "Let us play a game challenge or confess."

Mary's groan sounded simultaneous with Kitty's excited agreement, "Oh yes, let's! Life has been so dull without the officer's to flirt with."

Lydia gave Mary a cheshire grin while she asked, "Challenge or confess?"

In her most sanctimonious voice, Mary stated, "Let no man despise thy youth; but be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity*, not in frivolous pursuits of entertainment"

Wth a huff, Lydia fell back into her chair, "Stop sermonizing and choose. Challenge or confess?"

Mary looked everywhere but at Lydia. Unfortunately, the room hadn't changed. They all still sat in worn, but comfortable pale green chairs that hadn't been reupholstered in ages, the brocade all but worn through. The rug on the floor was still the ugly puce one mama loved when she saw it at Uncle Gardiner's warehouse. The fireplace was laid for a fire, but not lit since it had been a warm fall. They were sitting in the back sitting room, but what everyone called the family parlor.

"Confession is good for the soul. I choose confess."

Lydia did not try to hide her disappointment. She leaned over whispered with Kitty, giggling every few moments. "Alright," she said, leaning back into her own chair, "confess: if you could… no. If you had to, which officer would you kiss?"

Jane and Elizabeth gasped. "Lydia! That's not proper!" Elizabeth scolded.

"Oh la," Lydia sang, "it's confess not challenge. She does not have to, but only has to tell us who if she did."

On the heels of Lydia' s exclamation Mary mumbled her answer.

"What was that? I could not make it out," Lydia teased.

"Lieutenant Braithwait."

Lydia threw her head back and started to laugh, sounding a little too similar to a donkey.

While Jane admonished Lydia to decorum, Kitty giggled, "The boring one? Whyever would you want to give him a kiss?"

"I find Lieutenant Braithwait intellectual and pious," Mary defended. "Jane, confess or challenge?"

Jane turned towards Mary, surprise evident on her face. "Um, confess, I suppose."

A smile for fitted for Lydia's face appeared on Mary. "Tell us, has Mr. Bingley confessed his admiration for you?"

"Mary! What a waste of a perfect opportunity!" Lydia exclaimed before Jane could respond.

Jane's blushes told her sisters how she felt about Bingley. "He has not. Not in so many words." Jane continued over the protestations of her sisters, "And neither do I expect it. Mr. Bingley is simply the most amiable man I know. He is a friend, nothing more." Even Elizabeth couldn't hold in her snort of disbelief. As tempted as Elizabeth was to argue the truth, she didn't want to embarrass Jane anymore in front of her younger sisters. Especially as Jane was always trying to be a good example to them.

Over the din, Lydia took charge, "All right Jane. We believe you. Who's next?"

Everyone expected Jane to ask Elizabeth. After all they were the closest of all the sisters, even more so than Kitty and Lydia. But to everyone's surprise Elizabeth was not chosen. "Kitty, challenge or confess?"

Kitty puffed out her chest, "As Lizzy would say, my courage rises at every attempt to intimidate…"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "I don't say that."

"Oh yes you do," all her sisters responded. They looked at each other, and all broke out into giggles.

"Challenge, Jane. I choose challenge."

Jane thought for a moment, her disposition making it difficult to think of anything her sister would do that would also be proper. After a few more thoughtful moments Jane came up with a challenge that would benefit all.

"Kitty, I challenge you to sneak down to the kitchen and steal us each an apple tart from cook." While this sounded innocuous, Cook was notorious in the Bennet household for propriety, and a daughter of the house did not go downstairs for an apple tart. It was not unheard of for the girls, when they were younger, to have red marks on their arms and hands from trying to sneak a treat. Needless to say, they all lived in fear of Cook.

Kitty gulped, stood, and told her sisters that she would be right back. For ten minutes they waited for Kitty to return. Kitty imagined that her sisters all sat huddled by each other, clasping hands for comfort. In reality, Jane, Elizabeth, and Lydia sat and discussed the upcoming ball, and whether or not Bingley would ask Jane for the first dance. Mary read her latest treatise. To everyone's delight, Kitty came back with the tarts, and without any marks.

As Kitty licked the remnants of the apple tart from her fingers, she stated, "Lydia already has a challenge from me, so Elizabeth, challenge or confess?"

"Wait. What is Lydia's challenge?" Elizabeth was worried. Her youngest sisters were mischief makers of the worst kind. Elizabeth suspected that half the reason they flirted so much with the officers was so that they could pull pranks on them. Already, more than one officer had lost a trinket or medal. Elizabeth could only guess when and where they would reappear.

Lydia took on a superior tone, "Never you mind, miss Lizzy. Choose: challenge or confess."

"Well, my courage always rises at… I do say that a lot." All her sisters giggled good naturedly. "I choose challenge."

Kitty looked at Lydia, grinned, and gave Elizabeth her challenge. "I challenge you to kiss the next person who walks through that door."

Elizabeth felt that she should be shocked, but she wasn't. More likely than not, it would be her mother, or possibly her father. She knew that Kitty and Lydia wanted it to be their new footman. "I accept."

At that moment the door opened and in walked Mr. Darcy.

*1 Timothy 4:11-12


	2. Scene 2

AN: Wow I did not anticipate this response. Thank you all so much for the reviews and pleas for a continuation. I was not planning on writing more, but how could I turn down the challenge. :)

\--

Elizabeth again blamed the rain. Somehow the rain was the reason she was mortified. Her mind didn't seem to want to accept the fact that the man standing in the doorway to the family parlor was not her father, not the housekeeper, not even the new footman. No, the man standing in the doorway, appearing as if he didn't understand why he was standing in the doorway of an obscure country gentleman's home, was Mr Darcy. It took Elizabeth longer than normal to realize that Mr Darcy was not alone, Mr Bingley was right behind him waiting for his friend to move into the room.

At the sight of the two men, Kitty and Lydia burst out into unladylike giggles. Jane was so startled, that for once in her life she forgot the correct way to act with visitors and just stared dumbly at Mr Darcy until she noticed Mr Bingley, then she blushed beet red and turned her eyes to the floor with the occasional glance at Elizabeth, who was in turns white and then red and then white. It seemed as if her body didn't know whether to be mortified, embarrassed, or incredulous that it was Mr Darcy that she had to kiss. Mary was the only one to whom the sudden appearance of the gentlemen didn't seem to affect other than the muttered utterance, "Oh no." Following behind the men was the new footman. He announced the gentlemen and left the five ladies in shock.

Darcy stepped into the room and moved over, allowing the more affable Bingley to make their greetings and explain that they were there to invite the Bennets to the ball the following week, and to solicit Miss Bennet for the first set. While Bingley quickly made his way to Jane's side, Darcy continued on to the window, where he proceeded to gaze out at the back garden. Elizabeth couldn't seem to take her eyes off of Darcy. He was normally dour and judgmental, but something seemed different this time. It seemed that the unconventional greetings he was presented with caused his normal mask to drop just a bit. In addition to the pride that Elizabeth normally saw in his countenance, she also saw disgust (expected), confusion (understandable), and if she wasn't mistaken longing (surprising).

Elizabeth was confused as well. For the first ten minutes of their visit, she could not seem to wrap her mind around the fact that she had agreed to kiss Mr Darcy. There had to be a way out of it. This was so very much worse than if it had been the footman. After she could finally think of something other than the completely inappropriate imaginings of Mr Darcy's lips, she began to ponder on the quick glance of longing Mr Darcy gave her and her sisters. Elizabeth could not figure what it was that Mr Darcy would long for that she and her sisters had.

Mrs. Bennet came bustling in interrupting Elizabeth's thoughts with words of affirmation, "Oh, Mr. Bingley! We are so pleased to have you visit us despite this horrid weather," she glanced over to where Darcy was brooding, "your friend is welcome to, I am sure." She turned back towards Bingley, "I am so sorry that I was not here to greet you when you arrived, there was a problem in the kitchen… well never mind, we are all here now."

While Mrs. Bennet dominated the conversation, ignoring or oblivious to the shy glances Bingley was shooting towards Jane, Elizabeth couldn't help but shoot her own shy glances at Mr Darcy.

Eventually the time for a polite visit was over. Elizabeth had been unable to concentrate on the conversations for how often her mind fixated on the challenge to kiss Mr Darcy. Perhaps her sisters would see the impropriety of it and give her a different challenge. She could not in good conscious cry off the challenge completely, she had her own code of honor that she followed.

After the men left and their mother returned upstairs to "rest her poor nerves," Elizabeth turned to her sisters and requested that they consider her petition. "You cannot truly expect me to kiss a gentleman that I am not engaged to. If I was seen I would be _shunned_ from polite society."

"After all," Elizabeth continued to argue, "how could I possibly kiss Mr Darcy. I _barely_ know him, _do_ _not_ even like him, and _will_ _not_ be roped into a marriage with him if I am found out."

"Oh calm down Lizzy," Lydia sighed. "You're the one who always boasts about your courage. Well now you have a chance to prove how much courage you really have. Stop complaining and find a way."


	3. Scene 3

AN: I am so sorry it took so long. I have lots of excuses, but mainly I was trying to make Elizabeth do something that she didn't want to do. We sat down and had a good chat, and this is the result. This is very much not beta'd, so forgive the mistakes.

\--

"Elizabeth, when are you going to try to give Mr Darcy his kiss?"

Elizabeth gave a great sigh, "I do not know. I do not want to. What would Mr Darcy think? What if I am seen? What would Mr Darcy do?"

"Why do you mind what Mr Darcy thinks? You have never sought his good opinion."

Alone in her room, Elizabeth paced back and forth. Never had her room felt so small before. It had been two days since that fateful challenge. And it had rained every second of it. Neither Elizabeth nor her sisters had ventured outside. Most of the time Elizabeth had found herself in her room. Her sisters were downstairs, continuing their daily activities as if nothing were different. She figured for them nothing was different. They did not have to risk their reputations on a silly dare. Elizabeth sighed again. She did not have to risk her reputation either. She could rescind her acceptance of the challenge. Normally, with players who were decent humans, she would be granted a reprieve. But not with Lydia. She would demand that Elizabeth do something in recompense, and Elizabeth could guarantee that the something would be twenty times worse than the original challenge. She would not be cleared in her own mind either. She had never backed down from a challenge before, and she wasn't going to now. It may be her pride that was leading her, but even Mr Darcy agreed that pride was not failure in character.

Elizabeth continued to trace a path from one wall to the other. "I could try to contrive a way to get Mr Darcy alone at the ball in two days. He despises dancing, maybe I would be able to accost him during a particularly busy set." Elizabeth snorted. There was no way that she would be able to accost Mr Darcy. She was sure that there would not be a moment when he was not surrounded by someone, even being the most despised man in Meryton. Elizabeth had noticed that at every event that he had attended, he never left the event. He never took a moment for himself, either stepping out for fresh air, or finding relief in a way that you did not mention in polite company. So what was she to do? She could not kiss him in public either. She would be ruined, ostracized from polite company. Through no fault of their own, her sisters would be ruined as well. Their marriage prospects were not very good to begin with, a ruined sister would be the final nail in the coffin of those same prospects. And then even a white knight of Mr Bingley's caliber would not be able to save them. Elizabeth knew that Jane was the only sister who would have a chance at a white knight. There was never going to be a white knight in her future. Only people as good and kind as Jane deserved the fairy tale ending.

Elizabeth paused her pacing at the window when she heard a gust of wind push the rain against the glass window. She may dislike being forced to stay inside, but she did love the look and smell of rain.

Elizabeth sighed and again started to pace. She always thought better in motion, especially outside. But she could not go outside.

"Why not? What is stopping me? We have no plans today. I own an umbrella and a good rain cape." The thought was parent to the deed. Elizabeth ran downstairs, grabbed her cape and umbrella, and was out the door before her mother or sisters noticed that she had come down. Elizabeth slipped outside for an hour of freedom.

Thirty minutes later Elizabeth sat underneath a tree regretting her decision. Her walk had started off with such promise. She was able to walk along the lane in complete solitude. Her soul was soothed even as her feet got damp. She had borrowed her father's rain boots. She did not look like a proper young lady, but there was no one to see her. And that was the problem. There was no one out to help her now that she had slipped down the side of a hill, twisting her ankle, and covering herself in mud and the accompanying wet that comes with it.

"I hope Mama is right and that I do not catch cold and die. What a wretched way to die: cold, wet, and alone." The tree that she had limped over to was big, but, as it was the end of Autumn, most of the leaves had fallen off the branches. It provided the bare minimum of cover, but even a little covering was better than nothing. She was not using her umbrella because she had broken it in her tumble down the hill. "At least I had not made it far from Longbourn. Hopefully, within the next few hours, they will notice that I am missing and come and find me. I just have to survive a few hours being cold and wet. Easier said than done." For what felt like the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, Elizabeth sighed again, "This is going to be a long few hours."

After what felt like millennia, but was most likely just a few minutes, Elizabeth heard hoofbeats. At first she was sure she had just imagined it. The rain had not let up and hearing anything over the sound of the rain falling on the muddy ground seemed an impossible task. But the sound continued to beat and started to become louder. Elizabeth tried to pull herself up to a standing position, tried to call out, tried to wave her broken umbrella, anything to attract attention. But as she put weight on the twisted ankle, she screamed in pain and collapsed back into the mud under the tree.

The scream must have been loud enough, for the hoofbeats stopped and Elizabeth heard a voice over the tumult of the rain and the racing of her heart. A few moments later, she heard her name being called from what sounded like underwater. Her vision was starting to go dark because of the pain. The last thing she saw before the world went dark was a man dismounting from a beautiful white horse. Elizabeth whispered, "My white knight," and then all went black.

\--

Elizabeth noticed the cold. Why was she cold? She remembered pacing in her room. She was trying to figure out… what was she trying to figure out? She was seated on something cold and hard, but her upper body was reclining on something warm… hard but comfortable.

Elizabeth knew that she should open her eyes. She knew that all her questions would be answered if she would open her eyes, but for some reason she did not want to have the answers. She wanted to stay warm and safe in these arms for as long as she could. ARMS?!

Elizabeth's eyes shot open. She was looking into the eyes of her… did she really call Mr Darcy her white knight? She closed her eyes and groaned.

"Miss Elizabeth, how do you feel? Do you know where you are? What is the name of the queen?" Mr Darcy sounded as if he was panicking.

"Cold and wet. At the bottom of Oakham Mount. Charlotte. I would ask how your day has been, but in this weather I can only imagine. Not that I am not grateful, but whatever are you doing out in this weather?"

"Miss Elizabeth, I believe that you have hit your head harder than I originally thought. Do you happen to know if you have lost consciousness more than once? How long have you been here? What happened?"

Elizabeth tried to contain her laughter, but after the last hour and sitting in the unrelenting rain, preceded by the excruciating pain of twisting her ankle, Elizabeth had no self possession. She released a laugh. Luckily it did not come out as a hysterical giggle, but her true throaty laugh. But that did not seem to matter to Mr Darcy. He looked at Elizabeth as if she had truly lost her wits.

At her laugh Mr Darcy's haughty mask fell into place, "Miss Elizabeth I do not find amusement in this situation. I need to find somewhere to take you where you can dry off and warm yourself."

Elizabeth was too tired to take offense at his tone of voice. "I believe that you are in more of a panic than I am, and I am the one who did just swoon… Oh bother, I am turning into my mother. Soon I will need to buy my own smelling salts," Elizabeth threw Darcy a cheeky grin.

Darcy did not seem to share in her mirth. "Miss Elizabeth, I do not believe you know where you are at the present moment, or even who I am."

Elizabeth tossed him another smile, "Since you have said my name no less than four times, I can only assume that you do not believe that I even know who I am. I can assure you, Mr Darcy, that I know that I am Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. You are Mr Darcy of Pemberley of ten thousand pounds a year. I am currently cold and wet because I have been sitting for at least half an hour under this tree because I was not watching where I was going and twisted my ankle falling down the bottom of Oakham Mount. And the present queen is Queen Charlotte, God bless the queen. Do you have any other questions for me or might we follow your suggestion and figure a way out from under this tree to somewhere warm and dry?"

Darcy could not help but release a chuckle at Elizabeth's speech. Shaking his head at her impertinence he addressed the injury, "You said that you twisted your ankle. Might I be permitted to feel for breaks? We need to determine if you might be able to walk on it."

Elizabeth nodded her agreement but could not help refrain from gasping when Darcy lifted her skirt to her calf and started to untie her boots. She could feel the heat radiating off her as Darcy gave her a sideways glance when he saw that she was wearing her father's boots. "They protect my feet from getting wet better than my own," Elizabeth defended herself.

"That may be true, but I have no doubt that these boots are the cause of your slip down the mount and your resulting injury." Darcy was trying to keep Elizabeth's mind off of his examination of her ankle. From the bruising and swelling that had already occurred, Darcy was fairly certain that Elizabeth had a broken ankle not just a sprain. If he did not get her out of the cold and seen by a doctor, she might well lose full function of her foot. He knew that would be devastating to anyone who enjoyed the outdoors as much as his Elizabeth did. His Elizabeth?

After several minutes of painful poking and prodding, Darcy declared her ankle to be fractured. "You will need to have it wrapped and have it supported for several weeks. Most likely you will be told to not put any pressure on it. That means no more walks, or dances, for at least three weeks, if not more. We need to have a doctor examine it to truly know how bad the fracture is and how long your recovery will be."

Elizabeth knew that now was not the time to be disappointed that she would miss the Netherfield ball, but she could not help the twinge of sadness as she thought of the beautiful ball gown Jane was going to let her borrow that she would no longer have the opportunity to wear.

While she was wrapped up in her self pity, Darcy had removed his cravat. Interrupting her revery he asked, "Do you see a straight stick anywhere close by? We need to find something that can add support to your ankle when it is wrapped." After a few moments of looking around, Darcy found a stick that was adequate for their needs. Taking a few moments, he wrapped Elizabeth's ankle with the stick lending support. Elizabeth was sure that she had imagined his hands lingering on her foot, ankle, and leg a little longer than was necessary.

Breaking the silence between them, Darcy asked, "Do you ride, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Not well, but I can sit in the saddle and not fall off, if that is what you are getting at. But I am unsure as to how I can climb into the saddle on that giant you call a horse."

"Let me bring Goliath," at this Darcy gave her a cheeky grin that caused something in her stomach to pleasantly clench, "to you and then we will address the problem of ascending to his saddle."

Was Darcy flirting with her? Elizabeth could not believe that the stoic Darcy would unbend enough to flirt with a country nobody who was barely tolerable. And when had she started dropping the Mr and thinking of him as Darcy? If he was flirting, could she steal a kiss? On the cheek, of course. Elizabeth started to think deviously. This whole uncomfortable episode could have a happy outcome if she could only think of a way to steal her kiss before they arrived at Longbourn.

Without any warning, Darcy stood up and strode over to his horse. He started to adjust the straps on the saddle. After a few moments Darcy pulled the saddle off of Goliath. He then led the colossal white horse over to where Elizabeth was resting. Darcy shocked Elizabeth by grasping her wrists and pulling her to a standing position without warning.

"Miss Elizabeth, you will sit on the horse while I walk beside it and guide it back towards Longbourn. For that to happen, you will need to mount the horse." Darcy looked around as if to find something. "As there are no mounting blocks anywhere that I see, I will beg your leave to lift you onto Goliath's back." Darcy gave Elizabeth another sideways grin. She was again shocked to find that Mr Darcy was flirting, and that she was not unaffected.

Elizabeth shyly nodded her head allowing Darcy to clasp her about the waist, "Put your hands on my shoulders," he instructed. Elizabeth expected Darcy to lift her immediately. She was surprised when he lingered, causing causing them to rest in an almost embrace which was quickly losing the almost.

"Mr Darcy, as much as I have been enjoying our little tête-à-tête, I feel that we should start on our way lest we drown in all this rain." Elizabeth's words seemed to jar Darcy out of whatever he was thinking and he quickly lifted her onto Goliath's back. After ascertaining that she was balanced, which involved more touches to her legs than was strictly necessary in her opinion, Darcy grasped the reins and started off towards Longbourn.

For all the conversing they did while Elizabeth was under the tree, Darcy was surprisingly quiet on the walk back. Elizabeth was not sure what to make of him. For the majority of her acquaintance with him he had been quiet and seemed aloof. But for the fifteen minutes he was taking care of her, he was open, thoughtful, and kind. Which Darcy was he? Logic told her that he was the man that he showed the majority of the time: cold and aloof. But there was a tiny part of her, that seemed to be growing, that felt that the kind man from under the tree was the true man. That was a man she would not mind giving, well stealing, a kiss.

Before she knew it, they were back at Longbourn. Darcy paused at the top of the drive looking to see if someone would approach them looking for Elizabeth. "I did not tell anyone that I was going out. The rain was not coming down quite this hard when I left and I had thought that it would stop before long," Elizabeth explained when she sensed his distress at the lack of witnesses to their arrival.

Shrugging his shoulders, something Elizabeth never thought she would see him do, Darcy walked the horse as close to the door as possible. Releasing the reins, Darcy approached Elizabeth and told her to grip his shoulders and slide down the side of the horse. For the first time that Darcy could remember, Elizabeth did exactly as she was told. She landed standing rather closer to him than polite society would allow. He told himself that his hands went to her waist in order to add stability. Not that he wanted to have the feeling of holding her in his arms again.

Elizabeth was sure that this would likely be the only opportunity to steal her kiss. She knew that if she was going to have to kiss him she would rather kiss the Darcy from under the tree than his proud and indifferent evil twin. With a deep breath, Elizabeth went up on her toes. She felt Darcy support her and even lift her as she tilted her head. She saw Darcy's eyes go round in shock, but just for a moment. He then slowly leaned down and she got her kiss.

Elizabeth got lost in the sensations of her first kiss. His lips were warm and tender. His arms seemed to cradle her. She realized that she felt safe, and had felt safe with him the entire time. Just as she started to pull him even closer she heard the door start to open. Not wanting to be caught, Elizabeth shoved Darcy away from her, forgetting that she had no balance on her own. He stumbled backwards as she started to fall to the ground with a yelp of pain. Faster than she thought possible, Darcy was there catching her up into his arms and carrying her into the front hallway where Jane was waiting for her, blessedly alone.

As Darcy placed her on her feet in the house he explained to Jane all that had happened. "She needs to be warmed and dry and seen by a doctor as soon as possible."

Elizabeth hissed in pain when she placed her injured foot on the ground. In the haze of pain she heard Jane instruct a maid to send a note as quick as possible to Mr Jones the apothecary, and then to get a warm bath ready in Elizabeth's room. She then assured Darcy that Elizabeth would be well taken care of. She heard Jane offer their hospitality, but at their mother's shrill call demanding to know what was going on, Darcy politely refused the kind offer and, with one last glance at Elizabeth, he left to go back to Netherfield.


	4. Chapter 4

Netherfield was beautiful at night. The rain had stopped just hours before the official start of the ball, to everyone's relief. The still wet ivy climbing the walls sparkled in the light of the torches making the house look like it was covered in diamonds. The air held a bite that was common for November. The cold outside was an appropriate counter to the warmth of the ballroom. Everyone was sure that by the end of the ball they would be grateful for any breeze, even a whisper of the zephyr that heralds in a brisk winter.

The Bennets, specifically Mrs Bennet, had planned to be one of the first arrivals, so as to have the maximum amount of time for Mr Bingley to request a second set, request anything he wanted really. Much to Mrs Bennet's chagrin, they were neither the first nor the only family to arrive at Netherfield.

At least that was how Elizabeth thought it would be. She was stuck at home, resting with her twisted ankle elevated, a cup of tea in one hand, and a book that she could not seem to read more than one page in the other. Instead she kept finding herself gazing outside. "It's not like I'm Cinderella and banished to toil until I drop from exhaustion. But I would have liked to dance and talk with the prince." The fact that her imaginary prince was starting to look more like Darcy was something Elizabeth refused to contemplate.

Elizabeth had spent the day in her room talking with Jane and watching her prepare for the ball. She had tried to distract herself from the envy she felt as everyone but her dressed for an evening of dancing. She was mostly successful. But as she bade goodbye to her family she felt the pangs of regret. Elizabeth knew that it was her fault alone that she was not going to Netherfield with everyone else, but she was still upset about it. Mrs Hill had been sweet and arranged for Elizabeth's transfer to the parlor with her favorite foods and books surrounding her. Yet here she sat, brooding and lamenting her ill fortune.

Elizabeth had just decided that she was going to give up and retire for the evening when the maid came in and announced the man who had dominated her thoughts throughout the day, Mr Darcy. In confusion Elizabeth watched as Darcy strode through the door. Windswept and agitated, Darcy still exuded an aura of strictly controlled power that was shown in his formal ball attire. Even so, Elizabeth could see subtle signs of that control cracking as Darcy apologized for his unexpected visit and his inquiry into her health. After assuring him that her ankle was improving Elizabeth invited Darcy to sit. Elizabeth watched as he took the offered seat, fidgeted, crossed and uncrossed his legs, and finally gave up and stood again. She could tell that he was agitated, but was baffled as to what could be causing him his obvious anxiety.

After watching Darcy pace back and forth several times, Elizabeth finally asked, "Mr Darcy, it is most likely impertinent of me to mention it but you seem out of sorts. Might I offer you some tea or wine for your present relief?"

Darcy started at her voice almost as if he had forgotten where he was. "No thank you, Miss Elizabeth. I wanted to make sure that you had suffered no ill effects from your time in the rain and…" Darting his eyes towards the door, Darcy ascertained that there was no one lingering in the hall. He turned to Elizabeth, grasped her hand, and got down on one knee, "In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, colored, doubted, and was silent. Taking her silence This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. "Elizabeth, I am aware that before your injury that you have little liking for me. I have been forced to examine my actions during my stay in the area and I can assure you that I did not like how I appeared. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves, allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for your sister's timely intervention. She pulled me aside at the ball tonight and told me, nay lectured me on how best to go about achieving my, and hopefully your own, happiness."

Elizabeth could scarcely speak after such a speech. Darcy did not seem to notice Elizabeth's shock and silence as he stood and continued speaking about how she was the most handsome woman of his acquaintance and how he could not wait to show her his estate, Pemberly. She could tell that Darcy was starting to ramble, but she scarcely heard him. Elizabeth was still wondering why Jane would pull Darcy to the side to discuss her when she should have been dancing the night away with Mr Biingley. Also, why would Jane want to further a connection between Elizabeth and Darcy when she knew how Elizabeth felt about him.

Elizabeth was too caught up in her own thoughts to truly hear anything Darcy was saying, but when she heard him say the word marriage, she shook herself out of her stupor and interrupted. "Mr Darcy. I must beg you to stop. Sir, might I obtain some clarifications to the intelligence that you have imparted this evening?" At Darcy's nod Elizabeth continued, "I am confused. What did Jane say to you? Why would she think that I would be open to your proposal, assuming that is what this is? I am very grateful to you for your service to me, as well Jane knew, but I did not think that I gave her any reason to believe in anything other than my indifference to you. I beg your pardon for my bluntness, but it cannot be helped. What was Jane thinking?"

Elizabeth had never seen a man go from such energy and joy that he couldn't stop moving to standing completely still and looking dejected. Could Mr Darcy really love her? Granted, this past week had seen her feelings soften towards Darcy, but love?

Straightening his shoulders Darcy knelt down beside the chair that Elizabeth was confined in. "Miss Elizabeth, I must tell you, it was not Miss Jane Bennet who talked to me this evening. It was Miss Lydia Bennet who pulled me aside. She informed me of your overhearing my ill placed comment at the assembly a short while ago. She told me how you thought me proud and arrogant. She also told me that you would complain several times a day about my attitude, and that she had never heard you mention one man so very much." Mr Darcy had slowly moved closer to Elizabeth while he spoke. He was now close enough for her to notice the green flecks in his gray eyes, and a light lift of his lips into a smile as he continued, "I believe the words she used were 'If I have to listen to Elizabeth pine for you by complaining about you one more time, I am going to scream and run away with the nearest red coat I can find.' Since I plan to make her my sister as well, and I cannot have a scandel touch either of us. I determined right then to come here this night and obtain your acceptance of my hand in marriage. But if we are to have a scandal I would rather be the one perpetrating it, than deal with the fall out." Elizabeth could feel her heart softening to Darcy. She unbent enough to realize that she had never really disdained this man. Claiming her hand in his, Darcy inched even closer. "Elizabeth, marry me. Be my wife. Allow me to love and cherish you for the rest of your life. Marry me. Tonight. Pack your bags, join me in my carriage, and marry me in Gretna Green. I challenge you."

Elizabeth looked into Darcy's eyes and clearly saw his love for her. How could she have doubted it. With her courage rising, Elizabeth took a breath and answered. "I accept."

* * *

AN: And I'm finished. I apologize for it taking sooooo long. This last scene really didn't want to be written. Thank you for sticking with me (if you've waited). If you just found this, yay you didn't have to wait. Thank you for all your kind reviews and suggestions. I hope you all enjoyed my first foray into fan fic. (I have noticed that many authors respond directly to their reviewers. I don't know how to do this. But know that I do read all of the reviews and truly appreciate the encouragement.)


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